My path from dance to bodywork

Hi, I’m Akari, and here’s a little blurb about how I stumbled into bodywork—though it may be more accurate to say it found me when I needed it most.

Before this chapter of my life, I was a dancer, rooted in modern and contemporary dance. In my younger years, I competed regionally and nationally as a soloist, chasing the thrill of performance and accolades. But somewhere along the way, that spark dimmed. I began to question whether I loved the art itself or the result that came with it. Eventually, I stepped away from dance entirely—a two-year pause from something I once believed was my greatest ally. During this hiatus with dance, I turned to Tai Chi and Karate to stay at least a bit connected to movement. These new practices offered something dance no longer could for me: grounding, discipline, and spiritual guidance during a period when I felt profoundly empty.

A few years later, I made a friend who was absolutely terrified of dancing and was determined to learn. With enough persistence from her, I began teaching dance from a new perspective that felt more aligned with what dance and expression was, not as a performance but as a lifestyle. She became a two-year beta test for what eventually evolved into the Embody You Dance Program. Through that process, I rediscovered fulfillment in helping others reconnect with their bodies and their unique forms of expression. We all inhabit these vessels that carry us through every thought, every moment—and I became fascinated with how empowering it is to truly embrace, make a home in this vessel.

My north star then became guiding others toward the realization that feeling at home with our joy, presence, and expression through our body are always accessible— challenging others to see their body in a radically different approach to escape the confines of society’s expectation and internal beliefs of what expression ought to look and feel like. That mission led me to create retreats and one-on-one programs for those who felt disconnected from their bodies or unsure how to deliver expression from their internal to external world. The mission for this work was to make people not only feel seen, but also empowered enough to create and perform their own dance pieces, born entirely from their inner creativity.

I was on the brink of taking this work to Taipei, but the pandemic hit. The face-to-face connection, the raw, imperfect magic of being in the studio, drenched in sweat and tears, and surrounded by vulnerable, courageous humans, was replaced by the cold flatness of a screen. It felt like trying to grab water. I tried to force my dance practice to stay alive, but the migraines, the burnout, and the grief told me the truth: it was time to let go.

Losing my art and purpose that was a thick cord to my sense of self was unbelievably defeating. I felt hollow and like I had failed myself and others, even though the pandemic wasn’t within my control. But that’s when bodywork quietly entered my life. It wasn’t movement-based in the way I was used to—but it had parallels: somatic healing, human to human contact, deep presence, and guide back to feeling at home in your body.

Looking back, I see now that bodywork was a saving grace. Picking up the shattered pieces of everything I’d worked so hard for, I began to assemble them into a different kind of mosaic mural—something even more mystifying and magical than I could have imagined. Bodywork opened doors to people and experiences I never would’ve crossed paths with in the very insular world of dance. Instead of working with the same group for months on a piece, I now meet individuals from layered walks of life—and beneath all the external differences, I see the same longings: to feel at ease, held, seen, and belong in their vessel.

Creating that space for others in this new modality helped me piece my sense of purpose back together. I realized the art I thought I’d lost could be reborn, merged in new forms, if I was willing to let go of rigid definitions my own path, healing potential and expand into the unknown.

Now, my approach to bodywork in enmeshed with the process of my dance process. I am beyond grateful to feel at home in my work and honored to support others through now, a combined lens of embodied expression and body awareness.

Thank you for reading this far. I feel unbelievably lucky to offer moments of safety, comfort, and connection to others during their darkest or most painful times—and to watch people emerge brighter, more loving, and more at home in their body and story. To have built a life and career that I truly love and continue to learn from every day is nothing but pure bliss.

Thank you for being part of my little voyage:)

Akari ♥